


Oughtn't & Mustn't

by DictionaryWrites



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Poetry, Prison, Thor: The Dark World
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-21 03:30:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14907471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: Fandral visits Loki in the dungeons.





	Oughtn't & Mustn't

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by an [excellent gifset by hjbender.](http://dictionarywrites.tumblr.com/post/174797629273/hjbender-fandral-visits-loki-in-the-dungeons-he)

He oughtn’t be here. 

Fandral has done a thousand things he oughtn’t over the span of his long life, but this is easily at the top of the list. He moves with his head high, his back straight, like the nobleman he’s been raised to be, but his steps are faltering and uncertain, and the prisoners can see it. 

A few of them come to the edge of the netting that keeps them captive, some of them jeering at him as he passes, but Fandral keeps his gaze forward, walking slowly forth, further into the bowels of Asgard’s cells. The Einherjar hadn’t stopped him when he’d walked forth, had merely taken the sword Fandral had held out, and walked onward.

And there he is.

Fandral feels his breath catch in the column of his throat, feels himself lean back slightly on his heels. Loki, who had been slowly pacing his cell like an animal trapped in a cage ( _”I’m as much a wolf as man, you know.” “Really?” “Really.”_ ), notices him and slowly steps forward, his chin high, his hands held behind his back. 

“Hello, Fandral,” Loki murmurs, his tone slow and deliberate, full to the brim with all the politeness of Asgardian society. Fandral swallows as he moves closer to the net that keeps him caged in his place, but he doesn’t budge from his position. “Come to mock your new enemy? Come to gloat at the fallen prince? Or do you simply wish to gaze upon the ruins of our  _friendship_?”

 _It was only friendship, then_ , Fandral wants to say as he gives a minute shake of his head, but he doesn’t.  _How could I gloat at this?_  he wants to ask as his  _heart_  hurts, but doesn’t.  _How could we be enemies, when for so long we have been so much more?_  he nearly asks, desperately, but doesn’t.

“We will always be friends, darling.” He sees the way Loki recoils, his blue eyes widening slightly, either at the statement or the endearment, and he feels a hollow ache in his chest. Best to be bold, now, best to make it clear why  _precisely_  Fandral is here– “And you will always be my prince.” He sees the bob in Loki’s throat as he swallows, sees his eyes glitter with thought and memory,  _remembrance…_  “I always thought some mischief of yours would get you locked up. I never imagined a scenario where I wasn’t there beside you.”

“Perhaps had you remained by my side instead of betraying me, I wouldn’t be here.” Fandral laughs, quietly, at the weakness of the jibe.

“Wouldn’t it have been a greater betrayal, my dear, had I let you murder your own brother?” Fandral asks, and Loki stands very still in his place, looking down at Fandral for a long few moments. “More than mischief, this time, wasn’t it?”

“I don’t have to justify myself to you, Fandral. I made my choice: I shall take my consequences.” 

“You don’t have to,” Fandral says. “I could break you out.” Taken aback, Loki laughs, the sound ripping from his throat, and the smile on his face is  _genuine_ – Until it fades, replaced by yet more melancholy.

“You couldn’t,” he says softly.

“No,” Fandral agrees. “But I can visit.”

“You oughtn’t,” Loki murmurs. He glances from the left and to the right, and then steps closer, his palm hovering against the web of seidr-netting, but not quite touching it. “Fandral… You mustn’t.”

“I oughtn’t,” Fandral agrees. “But I must.” Taking a slow step up toward the netting of the cage, he slides slowly down to the ground, his back against one of the supporting pillars, one arm resting on his knee. Loki stares down at him, uncomprehending. “Why don’t you read to me from one of those books of yours? I’ve missed your voice, this past year. I should like to reacquaint myself with it.” 

“Oughtn’t you be reading to me?” Loki says, slightly awkwardly, his voice breathless. Fandral sees the tell-tale shimmer of a hasty illusion over his features, and he knows that whatever ails Loki’s expression, it is embarrassing enough that he wishes to hide it.

“Alright,” Fandral agrees, and he reaches into the pocket of his cloak, removing the volume of verse he is currently perusing - epic poetry from Nidavellir, telling of their battle with Svartalheim some millennia past. “Sit down, then.” Loki sinks slowly to the ground, sitting across-legged - they are but six inches apart, and Fandral can imagine for a second that they might touch their hands together. They can’t, of course. The security net would shock them both. 

“ _On the first dread night of Winter, so struck the Dokkálfr.  
There–”_

“Fandral,” Loki whispers, interrupting him. “You don’t have to do this. Not for my sake.”

“Who says it is for your sake?” Fandral replies, almost archly. He recalls the sickening grief he had felt when Thor had told them, when they had been told Loki had thrown himself from the Bifrost, down toward his coming doom… “Who says it isn’t for mine?”

“I’m sorry,” Loki says, all but breathing the words. “I wish things could have been different.”

“Yes,” Fandral says, almost gruffly, as he feels wetness sting behind his own eyes. “Me too.” He turns to the book, and he begins to read. 

For a time, he can imagine - both of them can imagine - that it is still two years ago, and that Fandral is sprawled against Loki’s footboard, Loki listening to him read beside him, lazily enjoying the sun that dapples Loki’s bed. The sense of nostalgia almost overcomes him, and so Fandral loses himself in the dwarven poetry, letting himself become  _words_ , instead of man. 

For a time, that is all either of them are, and it soothes the bitter pain within him. 

**Author's Note:**

> For my fellow DashingFrost shippers, I've now set up a [Fuck Yeah DashingFrost Tumblr](https://fuckyeahdashingfrost.tumblr.com), and I'm running a [DashingFrost week](https://fuckyeahdashingfrost.tumblr.com/post/174693891923/dashingfrost-week-2018) at the end of the month! Check it out! <3
> 
> Feel free to HMU on [Tumblr.](http://dictionarywrites.tumblr.com) Requests are always open.


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